


The Hanged Man

by nirroca



Series: Lavender [12]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/F, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Role Reversal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-14
Updated: 2019-04-14
Packaged: 2020-01-13 04:45:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18461768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nirroca/pseuds/nirroca
Summary: The Hanged Man - 12th Major ArcanaMeaning: The Hanged Man is the card that suggests ultimate surrender, sacrifice, or being suspended in time.Upright card (keywords): Letting go, Breaking old patterns, Circumspection, Suspension, MetamorphosisReversed card (keywords): Missing an opportunity, Inability to change, Egotism





	The Hanged Man

It hurt, the day she told her she wasn’t interested in her as anything more than a friend. 

 

But it was a familiar kind of hurt. One she’s courted before, and honestly it becomes less of a surprise each time it happens.   
  
But that knowledge doesn’t seem to make it sting less.

 

She knows it will fade, eventually, so now all she has to do is to wait for the ache in her chest to lessen each time she sees her beautiful face. Sees a well-guarded smile grace her lips in the presence of anyone but her.

 

But it doesn’t, so she falls back into old habits. Throws herself with full force into her duties, honing her abilities to be the best that they can be for when they’re finally needed in earnest. 

 

She keeps to herself, never spending time in places that their two paths might meet. And if their paths do cross she exchanges only the barest of pleasantries before fleeing back to her own spaces, away from accidental meetings and far off glances.

 

It's been months since that day and nothing had changed between the two of them. Nothing except the awkwardness that ensues anytime they’re in the same room, which is happening more often as of late considering their planned expedition to Adamant in the coming weeks. 

 

A deserts worth of sand in her boots would be more comfortable than the circular conversations that they always seem to fall into.

 

Lately, she's noticed a change in her, always followed by pointed glances from Josephine and Leliana, as if they’ve had words to her and the way that things fell apart between the two of them all those months ago in her absence.

 

She doesn’t know how she feels about the fact that no one had bothered to consult her about it.

 

But everyone has always expected her to be the cold one. 

 

A reputation that hurts all the more now considering the only coldness she feels is unrequited love and an empty bed.  
  
  
But each time she looks at her with that soft expression the foundations of her brave face begin to crack, and she fears it won’t be long before they crumble. She doesn’t know what she’ll do if that happens.

She can’t remain like this, but she doesn’t know what other option she has.  
  
  
She feels stuck in place, unable to move forward or to go back, that she’s stuck in some kind of middle ground where her only option is to stay the same. 

 

In the end, the decision is made for her, when she comes to her one afternoon with a peace offering and a soft smile, an openness to her that she hasn’t felt in months.

 

Something is different but she can’t quite put her finger on it, and she doesn’t dare to hope for anything, let alone resolution.

 

She doesn’t make things easy for her, which might be childish but she doesn’t care. She can’t go from one of her closest friends and confidants to a ghost that avoids her for months and expect things to go straight back to normal when she decides to finally break the distance between them.

 

“I don’t expect you to hear me out,” she starts, fiddling with the string in her hands “but I would appreciate it if you did.”

 

Her only response is her head tilting to the side in curiosity, and restraining the urge to turn heel and run in the opposite direction.

 

“I was an idiot, and I knew it the moment the words left my mouth,” She sighs, looking at her with sadness before she continues. “If I’m honest I think I was scared more than anything, but these past months haven’t been the same and I knew it was my fault but I didn’t know how to fix it and I’m  _ sorry _ .”

 

“Sorry?” She asks in confusion, not daring to think of what she might be trying to say. Tries not to think about how endearing it is when she flusters and how she always rambles when she can’t find the right words that fit what she wants to say.

 

“I’m sorry I let things get so bad between us. I’m sorry I said what I said. I’m sorry I told you that I only wanted you as a friend even when I knew it wasn’t true.”  
  
  
The words hit her like a blow to the stomach and the air between them grows still as she mulls over what she's saying.

 

“You  _ lied _ ? Why? I don’t understand?” And she doesn’t and she knows the confusion is plain to see on her face.

 

“I was scared?” She says weakly. At her words she steps back, almost ready to leave this conversation as fast as her legs will carry her. 

 

As if sensing her intention she steps forward, reaching out to grab her arm but stops herself at the last second.

 

“Cassandra wait!” and she does. She feels weak knowing that she would stay whenever she asked, but the part of her that has wondered where she went wrong all those months ago wants,  _ needs _ the closure. 

 

“I was scared that I would lose you. I was scared that you would realise that you deserved better than someone whose future was as bright as a hanged man awaiting his fate in the gallows. I was scared of the lengths I would go to, the things I would sacrifice just to keep you safe,”

 

_ Oh Ellana _ Cassandra finds herself thinking softly at the woman who had just laid her fears bare before her, her heart clenching at the doubt, and the sincerity she can hear in her voice. 

 

“I feel like that should have been something you should have let me decide for myself,” Cassandra says slowly.

 

“I realise that now and I’m sorry for taking that choice from you,” Ellana says, smiling up at her weakly, her eyes shining in the afternoon light.

 

“I suppose I can understand your fears,” she says as she thinks over her next words carefully. “And I believe I can forgive you if you tell me where we go from here. You know I’m a woman of action, so I would prefer to know where we stand with each other so we can move forward,”

 

Ellana looks at her curiously as if she doesn’t believe what she's just heard.   

 

“I think I can do that,” Ellana says, taking a step towards her, the red string pinched between her index and her thumb, holding it up between the two of them.

 

“What's that?” Cassandra asks curiously, with only a vague idea of what it might be. 

 

“It's a promise and a token? But also a reminder and a commitment.” Ellana rambles, and it's how Cassandra know she’s sincere. 

 

After pulling her glove off and rolling up her sleeve she holds out her left hand. Watches patiently as Ellana ties the string around her wrist, the tips of her fingers grazing the sensitive skin as she ties and checks the knot. 

 

Cassandra grabs her hand before she can pull away, and uses it to pull her closer, drawing her into an embrace.

 

She marvels at how well her small frame fits against her own, doesn’t miss how tightly she clings to her, fists bunching the shirt fabric between her shoulders.  
  
  
With Ellana’s breath warm against her throat she feels a sense of hope. Knows that the hopelessness she felt for all those months will fade, and eventually be replaced with something new, something better, something that was uniquely theirs.   
  
  
And if she ever feels lost again the string around her wrist will always lead her back to the woman in her arms and her commitment to them both.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
